"The wise find pleasure in water; the virtuous find pleasure in hills. ~ The Analects

Entries categorized "Eating in France"

December 14, 2009

I wanted to come up with a classy way to point out that these calendar girls are crazily hot and that I have just ordered a copy of the From' Girls Calendrier because how convincing the pitch is, but I'm not that clever, and honestly, selling cheese with girls in skimpy outfits wasn't a classy thing to begin with, so apparently that didn't work. Still, this is the French we're talking about.

And hell yes, for the love of everything holy, they make eating cheese looks bloody sexy. I'm now drooling in a very classy way, in case you are interested to know.

October 12, 2007

This is so embarrassing: I almost forgot how to blog! Way way too many time was spent on planning my annual you-know-what tour. Last time in Paris there was the Louvre, d'Orsay and Jardin whatever that is for, you know, fillers. This year there's none. It's the ultimate Director's Cut for every food nerd. Checking now, I really don't see anything that I can't swallow in my 12 days traveling regime. It's food, food and more food! Cool.

And I guess my first highlight tomorrow could be this. It certainly looks damn funny to see a vineyard in the heart of Paris.

December 02, 2004

In my eight-day stay (Oct 17 to 24) in Paris, I’ve been to 16 restaurants in France. 2 in Lyon, one in Champagne, one in Versailles with the others in Paris. 8 of them are Michelin garlanded establishments. After a bit of musing, I now come up with my entirely personal ranking of preference for them as follows.

The preference sequence is based on the overall dining experience I’ve had in these outlets. The most important element is of course the food, of which I give about 60% weighting. The service and the setting split the remaining.

I said the other day I’ll follow in Andy Hayler’s footsteps and come up with a super menu based the lunch or dinner I’ve had in these restaurants. Well, here it is.

November 28, 2004

I put Le Cinq the last during my Parisian trip not with the ‘save the best for last’ mentality but simply because it was the only Michelin three-starred establishment opens on Sundays. It turned out Le Cinq was the ultimate serendipity in my gourmandize quest: I’d the best lunch in my life.

Dining in Le Cinq made me realize what opulence and patrician were all about. One simply has too many things to love in this dining room. The décor was miraculously beautiful. They say god is in the detail, so does elegance. The Limoges porcelain, the Riedel stemware and the crystal-lined salt and pepper dishes from the aristocratic French sliver house Ercuis. In all, a place full of style and grace.

The wait staff was polite but at the same time panache. I could sense everyone of them were proud to work in Le Cinq and most importantly, proud to serve their patrons. From this pride, they developed their professionalism in service and the passion for the cuisine they had to offer. As I later came to know, ‘toute possible,’ which means ‘everything is possible’ in English was their motto by choice and they were all committed to it.

To work in the Le Cinq, you have to fill in an application form before the selection process. In it, there’s a column asking if you are familiar with the art of mind-reading. If you fill in ‘no,’ you are out of the boardroom. Indeed, halfway through the lunch I was starting to think that Le Cinq only hire prophets. My hands’ only task during the lunch was to handle the flatware. No waving was needed. The shibboleth descriptions such a ‘attentive but not intrusive’ seen so often in restaurant reviews were understatements. They were way more – their service was ‘prescient and polished.’ They knew what I wanted next without me showing the slightest hint.

That much said, all these great service meant nothing if the food was below expectation. But the virtuosity of Philippe Legendre (ex Taillevent) wasn’t to be denied. Food in here was nothing but impeccable. What I liked most about the menu was that there was a column specialized in game. They had the hare, wild duck, venison and wild pigeon, and even the grouse and haggis prepared in Scottish way. It was by far the most eclectic game menu I’d come across in Paris. There were 2 prix fixe menus for the indecisive minds to resort to. The 'Menu Decouverte,' the Discovery Menu with five courses or the 'Menu Degustation,' the Gourmet Tasting Menu with nine courses. Feeling the latter was too much even for an indefatigable gourmand like me, I decide to go with the Discovery Menu.

I started my meal with the chestnuts Royal with truffle juice. Mon dieu! Just a sniff of it gave me a jovial olfactory stroke. While the chestnuts were sweet and fresh, it espoused well with the heady and earthy aroma of the truffle. The name got it real right: it was royal, regal and majestic.

The second course was the duck foie gras with rhubarb compote and elderberry juice. Two garnishes of tart fruit condiment were used to supplement the foie gras. This fattened liver tasted sumptuous and soft. The preparation of this dish was simple sans any trick yet a light touch of these tart jus helped to speak honesty to all the virtues of the foie gras.

The third one was the pan sautéed scallop with Jerusalem artichoke and truffle juice. The scallops, bathing in the luminous jus, were timely sautéed so that the flesh was meltingly velvety; they were further moistened with an emulsion of truffle and sunchoke jus.

The main course was the roasted wild pigeon with cabbage and its juice. The sumptuous pigeon, combined the lightly sautéed cabbage juliennes to provide a superb contrast of textures and complementary flavors. The pigeon gravy was intensely rich in flavor too. If there was a theme for this dish, I would say it was ‘singing with flavor.’

And the dessert was the roasted spiced pineapple with mango and papaya, ten savor exotic sorbet (what a mouthful). This sinfully rich concoction of tropical fruits and the outstandingly fresh sorbet was elaborately constructed and proved a real feast to the eyes. The spiciness was just right so that it was mildly ‘spiced’ and sweet at the same time.

The champagne I had was the 1996 Cuvee Louise Rose Prestige. It was bright pink-gold. It was quite sherry-like for the nose, with a hint of orange. Ample flavors of lemon and tangerine were supplemented by a nuance of yeast. The finish was extraordinarily elegant for a rose. The white I had was a glass of 2000 Pouilly Fuisse ‘Claude-Denogent.’ It was very pronounced with an strong aroma of pineapple. Voluptuous and extracted. The palate was broad, toasty with ripe honeyed fruit flavors. The finish ran marathon. The red I had before I was drunk was a glass of 2002 Blagny 1er Cru Domaine Vincent Girardin. Its note was nutty and body full. The finish was persistent with mineral flavor. It was in concord with my roasted pigeon.

One of the golden rules of restaurant for a traveling gourmet is not to visit the same restaurant over and over again, as it is much wiser to try as many as possible when abroad. This rule is especially true in Paris, a city where you have endless great dining institutions to choose from. But with the experience I had in Le Cinq, I will definitely break this golden rule and go back to it every time I go to Paris. Bonjour Paris, that is for me! Le Cinq, Cette moi.

Just off the La Bourse, the French stock exchange, Aux Lyonnais is wildly lauded as the best Lyonnais restaurant in Paris. Some go further to say this is the best place to crave pike dumpling in the City of Light. The restaurant managed to be oblivious to the area’s galloping fashionization and exist in its own ‘fin-de-siecle’ dimension. Despite the place crawls with Anglophones (on the night I visited, I didn’t heard any patrons around spoke French… Yes, I was all ears to listen what others were ordering) this place worth a visit if you want to know why Lyon is called the gastronomic capital of France.

Tiny breadsticks with a dill and chervil dip kept my tongue entertained while I studied the lovely menu. My appetizer was the rabbit shin meat. The rabbit shin meat was laden on a toast, resting on a bumper crop of celeriac juliennes. It was as homey as it was zesty. The meat of the shin was so tender that I didn’t need to chew it. In fact, the texture was so smooth and liquefying that it didn’t chew like meat. I bet this was the Beluga caviar of meat and what Dionysus was having in heaven.

But if my dining table was equivalent to the stage of the Oscars, my rabbit shin could only net the best supporting actor trophy that night. Because the Academy award for best actor would definitely go to my main course, the boudin noir with potato mash in a hot pot. The blood pudding was so well cooked that I didn't feel like eating the blood of pig at all. There was not tanginess or rustiness of any sort. I was so floored by the richness and complexity of the flavors. The presentation was very grandma-recipe like and the execution was perfection. This was the kind of dish that distinguishes a kitchen from the rest of the pack. I confess I virtually gnawed it like a vampire who hadn’t suck blood for 400 years. 'Plus de sang pour moi, s’il vous plait.'

The dessert got points for beauty as well as taste. It was a soufflé soaked with vanilla ice cream. The well-build classical soufflé was baked together with nuts and strawberry on the sides. The depth and tenderness of the interior and the crispness of the sides were a total fitting match. The light aroma of the ice cream mingled well with the soufflé without overpowering it.

The wine I had was half bottle of 2001 Jaboulet Parallele45. It was dark ruby in color with intense red fruit and chocolate aroma. The palate was sappy and harmonious with a long, warm, peppery finish. It was also a very food-friendly wine that paired remarkably well with my boudin noir.

November 26, 2004

A very far-flung restaurant located at the 17e (expect to walk 10 minutes from the nearest metro, or 30 minutes if you came out from the wrong one like I did). This snug little bistro, which hardly sits 30, is packed every night so reservation is very important. Young chef Philippe Tredgeu (from whom the name L’Entredgeu came) masters his sure-fire formula inherited from kitchens of Chez Michel’s and Chez Casimir’s well here. The price is very reasonable by Parisians’ standard: you can have a decent set dinner at a mere E28 in which you’ll have one entrée, one main course and one dessert whereby several items require you to dip in more. The menu changes daily and all dishes were displayed on a small blackboard. The décor of this outlet is as achetyepal as any old, homey bistro in Paris looks like: walls in creamy color hung on with a series of wore-out black and white pictures capturing the Parisian lives of yore.

The starter I ordered was a ‘blettes gratinees au brebis, oeuf poche et lard grille,’ grilled fat bacon with onions and egg served in a iron cast gratin pans dish with ears. The dish was artistically arranged into 3 layers. The bottom was the shredded and fried onions, the middle a poach egg and the top some grilled fat bacon. This is the kind of dish that marks the return of basic and hearty food in triumph. All the ingredients of this dish are easily up for grasp in the market. We all know sometimes the most basic and ordinary food is the food that’s hardest to master. Why? Because it leaves no veil for pretender and it leaves no room for window-dressing. Limp greens, someone ‘pureed’ it and our taste buds were betrayed. Musty meat, someone deep-fried it and our taste buds were deceived. But here, basic food prevailed. Poach eggs never lied, grilled bacons never lied and pan-seared onions never lied either. Every one of us is shrewd enough to tell whether they are cooked well and if they are cooked the way it should be. And I could tell the one I had here was damn good. These three ingredients were so different in characters yet mangled so well. Basic food, I was falling in love with it again.

The main course wan the pan-fried duck liver. The foie gras was served with a ladleful of morille laid beneath. While it was delectable and very generous in portion, it was a minor disappointment. I could only said it was marginally moist. Maybe I was expecting too much from a family-run bistro; or maybe I was just mislead by the tantalizing glimpse of the starter to think all food to come would be the same as good, if not better.

But the dessert shown Philippe Tredgeu was still in his elements in the kitchen. It was cheese ice cream and figs. A scoop of cheese ice cream was put on top a bed of poach figs in syrup reduction, laden with frost and served in the same kind of gratin dishes like the starter. The appearance was as homey as it was mellifluous. The ice cream was succulent while hot figs were pleasantly aromatic. Wow, it was so my kind of bliss.

November 25, 2004

Guy Savoy is ludicrously expensive. Period. We are not talking normal stiffness by bankers’ standard; we are talking about "over-250-euro-for-a-set-lunch" and guillotine-ly expensive.

My eyes almost popped out when I saw the stratospheric E210 price tag (exclusive of wine) for the prix fixe menu. I pinned my headwaiter Etienne, who was sporting a chic, white truffle-colored suit instead of normal waiter uniform, to the floor and asked if there was any other set menu selling at a cheaper fare, say, any tasting menu at half portion. To which Etienne replied no. “Monsieur, this is already the tasting menu with each dish serving in small portion,” he returned. On this reply, I said to myself ‘Après mois le deluge’ in broken French and went on to try the 'Menu Automne.'Oui, lets burn the money now and file in the bankruptcy application when I get back to Hong Kong later.

The amuse-bouche were first a skewer of foie gras and toast; followed by a dose of pumpkin soup and a tiny pastry topped with spinach puree. These two were free of charge, as I reckoned gladly. To tell you the truth, I forgot how it tasted because I was still running the gamut of emotions over the hefty price tag. They were not bad, that was as far as I could recollect from my state of unconsciousness.

The first dish was a plate of clams and mushrooms in clam sauce. The glass plate was huge yet the clams were disproportionately small. The matching and the presentation were skillful but the flavor of the clams was not distinctive. I guessed it wasn't the fault of Savoy, might be I was still a bit gobsmacked by the price.

The second dish was the duck liver with long-stewed morille sauce. The liver was served in the briny style; I was a little bit disappointed by the insipidness and dryness of it. The aromatic mushroom sauce however, compensated that problem.

The third one was the shrimp terrine in thick duck broth. The shrimp terrine was divine. I could sense the overwhelming flavor of shrimp as I gnawed the terrine. Etienne told me this terrine was accompanied with duck consommé; but judging from the richness and chunkiness of the “consommé,” I thought it was more appropriate to call it a broth. The portion was very tragically small for I really wanted to have more of it.

The fourth one was the ‘Coquilles Saint-Jacques,’ pan-fried scallop with basil sauce. This was the kind of cuisine that could really distinguish a great chef from a good one: the outside of scallop was extremely crusty while the inside felt as moist and soft as jelly. The sad fact was, as you can tell from the picture, there was only one diminutive piece of scallop on the dish.

The firth one was the pan-fried belly of red mullet with baby watercress and figs in tempura style. The fish was sweet, fresh and crispy in the mouth. The timing of the cooking was exemplary. I would say it ran stride to stride to the one I tried in Paul Bocuse. In Bocuse, the red mullet was baked with a layer of puffy potato crust on top whereas this one revealed more truth about the original flavor and freshness of the fish.

The sixth one was the famed artichoke soup with black truffle. Etienne told me passionately that this soup was what people came here for. The soup was creamy and the pungent flavor of the artichoke was gently elevated by the earthy flavor of the black truffle. If this was what people came here for, they surely came right.

The sixth one was the white pigeon two-way: grilled breast and leg stuffed with its liver. While the leg was brilliantly executed, full of flavor and tender; the grilled breast was pale in comparison with the one I had in Paul Bocuse. The breast was brittle alright but somehow too dry.

The seventh one was the cheese platter. Turn for my sweet revenge where the munch power of true gourmand really shone. I simply asked Etienne to show me all the best they had. In the end, I had 5 big chucks of cheese on my plate and ate them all.

It was dessert decadence all the way to the end, from the eighth to the twelfth. The eighth one was a very vaporous piece of pre-dessert: a chocolate-coated grape. The novelty was very simple but the execution perfect. Among all the desserts, the most outstanding one was the ninth one, the gala of quince. Quince sorbet, quince glace and quince mousse placed in a cup in descending order and side-dished with a plate of quince flan. It was marvelous; Guy Savoy, the alchemist-as-chef simply put pastry art to a science. It was like flavors of all the quinces around the world were condensed in one cup.

The wine recommended by the sommelier was excellent. I tried three varieties of wine in my free falling. The aperitif was a glass of rose champagne, Brut Rose of Billecart Salmon that was. The color was pale pink. The aroma was floral with light berries flavor. The palate was effervescent yet suave while the body was very full, a bit stony and finishing with excellent persistence. Rose champagne wise, this must be my one-way ticket to heaven. The white one was a glass of 2002 Condrieu from Domaine du Monteillet. It smelled very floral and fruity with some lychee & ginger in the background. In the mouth, it was very opulent and grace. An exceptional white that paired well with my fish and artichoke soup. The red I had was a glass of 2001 Domaine de la Rectorie ‘Coume Pascole’ Collioure. The smell was quite nutty with light hint of herbal scent. A bit dry and tannic for the palate. Absolutely fabulous.

The service for my 3-hour lunch was outlandishly deft, deserving all the superlatives as far as catering service goes. Etienne the headwaiter in particular was very passionate to explain to his patrons about all the food in the offer. A zealous squad of wait staff always spells good news to the clientele. It means they know their cuisine is good and they are proud of it.

November 24, 2004

I couldn’t agree more to Frommer’s when it says GV is a history infused citadel of classical French cuisine. In fact, every corner in GV has a cachet history, with some big names like Napoleon, Josephine, Victor Hugo and people of that distinction being its guests. Point in check: the one I was sitting once warmed the buttocks of Camille Desmoulins. When I asked my headwaiter who is this lucky chap, he told me he was a revolutionist who ended up had his head chopped for treachery. Well, very appetizing to know before my lunch. Does it mean history will repeat itself and I will end up as the first martyr for food one day? Well, ‘to guess is not to reply.’ To eat is.

Every thing in this dining room reminded me the great Belle Époque era. Even the china was stunningly picturesque. C’est tres beau! So beautiful that I believed they could even elevate the French fries from McDonald into haute cuisine (or maybe not).

To order in GV is rather easy; you can either order a la carte or follow what Guy Martin suggested for you on the prix fixe menu (only available for lunch). For the prix fixe dejeuner, you’ll have one entrée, one main course, a cheese platter (great!) and desserts at about E75 (exclusive of wine). As usual, I ordered the prix fixe menu.

The amuse bouche was the pumpkin soup with the caviar cream. The soup was refreshing, smooth and rich in flavor whereas the caviar cream was ethereal. The most amazing part was that a cold puree of pumpkin was placed at the center of this hot soup, provoking a very contrasting note in the palate.

The starter was the pan-fried grouse leg stuffed with pine nuts, meats and livers of chicken. The skin was crispy and the flesh moist, with the execution I would expect from a starred restaurant. But the high spot was the stuffing inside. The crunchiness of the pine nuts, together with its vegetal flavor, mixed well with the fillings and even exalted the flavor of the chicken.

Next came the main course, which was ‘tete de veau’ combo. There were the brain, nose meat and cheek fat of veal on the dish. When I ordered this ‘suggestion of the day’ instead of those printed on the prix fixe menu, the headwaiter warned me this dish was a very acquired taste and I should order it at my own peril. “Ha! Pardon Monsieur, do you realize you’re talking to a Chinese? I can hardly see any living creature we Chinese are still acquiring rather than acquired to in this planet. Just show me the beef,” I said. When it did come, I was gobsmacked. The nose meat of veal was delectable. It was probably the softest cut of the veal and eating it was a bit like chewing a marshmallow. The brain of veal, meanwhile, had a jelly-like texture. It was edible though I was sure it wasn’t everyone’s palate too. Next came the ‘hard’ part: the fat of cheek. I was so empathized with Camille Desmoulins when I ate it. A revolutionary road is obviously not for everyone to take as it often marks a premature downfall. In fact, I gave up after one bite – it tasted like wax, a chunk of tasteless fatty and greasy wax – the mint sauce didn’t help neither. If nothing else, it compounded the torture. The sort of gastronomic machisimo displayed earlier was no where to be found now. This time, I surely learnt the taste of one classic French haute cuisine the ‘fat’ way.

For a dessert snob like me, I thought the GV worth my trip with its dessert menu alone. They were tasty, stylish and grand. The best part was that the desserts literally flooded to my table wave after wave. I first had the cake with strawberry, tomato, herbs and raspberry sorbet on top. C’est tres bien. Guy Martin simply took pastry art to a science. It was absolutely striking to see the strawberry mixed so well with the tomato. Yet there was more, the second dessert was the ‘gourmandises au chocolat,’ a medley of chocolate. A chocolate jewelry box was topped with a white chocolate sorbet. The real surprise was, however, hidden inside the dark jewelry box – a total indulgence of richly flavored chocolate mousse. This chocolate mousse must be the best I’d tried in my life. The richness and creaminess of it was utterly overwhelming.

The wine I had was a 2000 Chateau Paloumey Cru Bourgeois. It was lucid in the glass. The nose was very ripe and fruity, with a whiff of cedar. Black currant flavor distinctive notwithstanding, it balanced well with the spiciness in the palate. The finish was decent but short. Overall, it was a very elegant and graceful wine. While the classic pairing for Medoc is roast spring lamb, it went well with the first part of my beef adventure.

Then I took picture with Guy Martin, the star chef who deserves a name-engraved seat in GV himself for all the spellbinding endeavors he is doing in the kitchen. Sadly, the poor photography skill of the receptionist proved to be a real snag. Several attempts with my point-and-shot digital camera still left me nothing but a couple of blurry pictures...

November 19, 2004

It used to be Boyer Les Crayeres, under the famous chef Gerard Boyer. But Monsieur Boyer retired about 2 years ago and since then the restaurant has been downgraded by Michelin from 3 stars to 2. In spite of this, I still considered this institution the best in the whole Champagne neighborhood. If nothing else, Gerard Boyer is still the ‘owner and consulting chef’ of this restaurant. The dining room, nestled in a cream-colored classic château, was as elegant as a dining room could be. For weekends, you need to book well in advance since this château is a very popular weekend getaway for the affluent locals of Champagne. If you come in a big gang or if you have some money to ‘flambée,’ remember to book for the ‘rotorde.’ It makes you feel like an aristocrat eating at a private garden. Only the oil sheiks from Arabs can outdo you in lushness.

But lushness came at a price. This restaurant was a big hit in the account. A set lunch menu with five courses, charges from E204 to E235, depending on what set of wines you choose to pair and whether you want cheese or not. Feeling rich, I ordered the “Menu Degustation Prestige,” which was the menu with a better wine selection and with cheese. The starter was the mushroom soup with the famed Jabugo ham from Spain with drizzles of cappuccino cream. My headwaiter reminded me to stir it a bit before I slurp it. The taste was very complex with many layers of flavor. The mild earthy flavor of the mushroom espoused well with the pungent meaty flavor of the ham. The novelty of this soup, meanwhile, was the anoint of the cappuccino cream, adding a lovely scent of coffee to the soup.

The next course was the filet of sea bass. The light poach fish was utterly moist and plump. The sauce it bathed in was a jus made mainly of orange zest and green pepper. To be honest, I was more bemused by the sauce since I'd never been fond of poach fish.

The third course was the gently grilled lobster served with oyster jus, lying in a bed of seasonal black trumpet. The lobster was fresh and tickled well with the oyster jus. I was amused by the chemistry it sparkled with my 1996 Billecart Salmon, leaving a chocolate flavor in the palate.

The fourth course was the ‘lievre a la royale,’ long-simmered hare roll stuffed with foie gras in black morels jus. When I said long, I meant it. It was simmered in a big pan for 14 hours before serving. They say it takes two to tango and this saying surely worth its salt in this cuisine: the hare roll and the foie gras merged together so well that I could hardly distinguish which was which anymore. Both were soft, tender and melt-in-the-mouth. A royal treatment through and through.

Next came the cheese platter. A tray of ‘fromages de nos regions’ was presented in front of me. Being satiable, I only chose five varieties from it. The center of attention was the Chaource, the best-known cheese from the Champagne area. Though it was creamy, it wasn’t my cup of tea. I needed something headier.

The highlight of the meal came at the finale. It was the “figues soufflés a la cannelle, crème citronnee, sorbet mure,” a complex of figs soufflé, citrons cream as well as the sorbet made with crème de mure was all mine to devour. But the figs soufflé really put other two into shade. If I were the mayor of Reims, I would insist putting this dessert at the Object D'Art salon of the city museum. I simply looked it with the same admiration I look at Monet's ‘Olympia’ or Renoir's ‘Panic in the Garden.’ A nest made by gold-colored cameral crowned the figs boiled in cinnamon sauce and a vanilla ice cream. Dessert can’t be more beautiful than this. This is the Marianne of dessert.

The half bottle champagne (what else when you are in Reims?) I drank was the 1996 Billecart Salmon ‘Cuvee Nicolas Francois.’ The nose was very Pinot Noir, amazingly full and citrus. The palate was very round and long; unbelievable full for a sparkling wine. A great aperitif and it paired marvelously with the lobster. The half bottle red wine I drank was the 2000 Chateau La Garde Pessac Leognan. It was very nutty and voluptuous, trace of vanilla and oak was obvious. But the real magic of the wine was its super silky fineness: I almost felt nothing as it past my throat.

Is it possible to dine in the Napoleon Apartment Salon of Louvre? Slim chance. But is it possible to dine in a place as aristocratic and elegant as there? Yes, in the Le Meurice. The décor of this establishment is as breath-taking and grandeur as you can possibly imagine. I said to myself the moment I stepped in that this is the place I would like to treat my better half a dinner on the first night of our honeymoon (it is good to imagine regardless I’m single). With this dinner, both of us will have an occasion to remember for the rest of our life. The painted ceiling, the shimmering crystal chandeliers, the antique beveled mirrors and the gigantic canvas hung on the walls all remind me the impressive Napoleon Salon I’d just visited in Louvre. If an opulent, lush and romantic dining room is what you looking for in Paris, look no further than the Le Meurice.

As usual, I chose the prix fixe menu. At E68, the “Dejeuner en liberte” offered an appetizer, a main course and a dessert. Very economic when you consider the least expensive appetizer and main course a la carte charges you E50 and E85 respectively. That said, I didn’t think my alchemist, Yannick Alleno would treat me bad with his prix fixe menu anyway. After all, he is the one who helped the Le Meurice to clinch 2 Michelin stars from zero in just one year, a first in the history of the Michelin Red Guide.

For the appetizer, I ordered the grouse terrine with mango chutney and toasted bread. The terrine was sliced in my table front by my headwaiter. What a show he put on. With a cleaver on his right hand and a carving fork on his left, he virtually orchestrated a ballet show on the wooden cutting board and the tub of terrine was swiftly cut into five sections in no time. I asked him specifically to save me the fatty residues of the grouse terrine from the rim and put on my bread dish. I love fat, I love lard and I love grease. I think they are gorgeously meaty and succulent in the mouth. Calories? I care not. That said, the grouse terrine itself was delicious. The meat was plump and complex in flavors. The high spot, however, was the foie gras of the grouse stuffed in the middle of the terrine. The chunkiness of the foie gras cast a stark contrast to the softness of the meat, mixed up well in the palate. A dip of the mango chutney did add wonders. This got to be the most whimsical and stylish terrine I’d tried in my life.

For the main course, I ordered the civet of garenne rabbit ‘a la francaise,’ accompanied with homemade pasta. It was a well-seasoned stew of rabbit flavored with onions, mushrooms and red wine. The meat of the rabbit was moist and anointed well with peppery flavor of the sauce after the long stew. In all, it was a showcase of classic French haute cuisine doing in the right way.

The pre-dessert before the dessert was awesomely beautiful. I must say Le Meurice has one the most gracious and fashionable pre-dessert offering in Paris. It has chocolate with citrus ball, meringue with gold crust and two glasses of honeydew melon glace. It was the first time I ate a pre-dessert down to the last morsel.

For the dessert, I ordered the passion fruit gratin with chocolate with a passion sorbet on top. The gratin was spongy while the creamy jus of passion fruit proved to be a perfect match to the hot chocolate hidden inside the gratin. A very hearty dessert indeed.

The wine I ordered was a glass of 2001 Durand Saint Joseph Les Coteaux. This inky garnet was quite peppery, woody and leathery to smell; whereas in the mouth it was lovely savory, showing a trace of dark plum at the same time. Overall, it was a dry and full-bodied wine with a fairly long finish. It went gorgeously with my grouse terrine and rabbit.